


You are without fault; except (ii)

by irishcookie



Series: Imperfect Perfect [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishcookie/pseuds/irishcookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariadne is an imperfect perfect woman;  Arthur loves her despite of it</p>
            </blockquote>





	You are without fault; except (ii)

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2010. Response the prompt: Five bad habits Ariadne has and 1 thing she does that makes up for all of them

**i**

Ariadne chews on pens. 

He finds their battered remnants at work, at home, in rental cars. 

The pencils he buys for her remain unscathed. 

**ii**

Ariadne is never happy with her work. 

She is unsure of her designs. The floor is littered with sketches that she has deemed unworthy. She spends an exorbitant amount of money on cardboard and glue. He has seen her break a model over her table once in frustration. 

Arthur understands the need for detail. However, deadlines are set in stone. They cannot afford to wait while she sketches, re-sketches, builds, rebuilds. Especially since the first layout is perfection to begin with. 

He goes out of his way to praise her work. 

**iii**

Ariadne has no regard for organization. 

Arthur prides himself on being neat and efficient. He has set up a system. There are hooks, cupboards, shelves – a place for everything in their lives. She seems to have made it her life’s mission to ignore that fact. 

She drops her coat underneath the hook. She leaves plates sticky with dried food by the sink. She ignores his requests to place her dirty clothes in the basket and he once trips over a pair of her underwear.

He does not admit that fact out loud to anyone. 

**iv**

Ariadne insists on filling the closest with inferior clothing. 

She has scarves in every color, every pattern. And a pair of flats to match them all. There are t-shirts for bands that have not existed in decades. There are ill fitting pants; threadbare cardigans that she refuses to give up. He even finds a pair of black jeans with rips held together by safety pins. He quietly disposes of them and she is none the wiser. 

She has no concept of quality or craftsmanship – surprising given her profession. He tried to teach her but she proves to be a frustrating student. She complains that his tailor is too friendly when he measures and that she has better things to spend her money on. 

He loves that she doesn’t back down from who she is but just once, he would love to see her in something that has been fitted for her - and only her. 

**v**

Ariadne is overtly curious. 

She spies. She eavesdrops. She asks questions that no one should know the answer to. Eames often tells him that one of these days he is going to gag her if she once again inquires as to what he does in his spare time. Arthur believes him. 

On one occasion, she enters his dream unannounced and uninvited. He cherishes the moments he has in blessed silence and her intrusion is loud, shattering. He does his best not to be angry when she looks at him with her large doe eyes. 

He worries that one day her need to know everything will get her killed. 

**&**

Ariadne smiles when she sees him. 

She smiles when he comes back from a break, a cup of coffee in his hand for her. She smiles when they wake up stiff on lawn chairs with IVs buried in their wrists. She smiles when he appears two layers down ready to guide her to safety. 

She smiles when he comes home and wraps his arms around her, burying his face into her neck. She smiles when he tells her he loves her. She smiles when she tells him she loves him back. 

He can never see it enough.


End file.
